


drinking champagne meant for a wedding

by mysterious_minds



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Drunk Harry, M/M, drunk and sad harry to be more specific, excessive amounts of champagne, im sorry this is so short, liam and sophia are concerned and beautiful, louis has to hang out with her the whole wedding, no one breaks up either i promise, um the ending isn't happy but it isn't ending in death so that's a win
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-21
Updated: 2014-07-21
Packaged: 2018-02-09 19:09:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1994502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysterious_minds/pseuds/mysterious_minds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Harry, mate…you look…well,” Liam says, coming up behind him, Sophia trailing along. They both look absolutely beautiful, he thinks. He’s quite glad he’s not the only one in black.</p><p>“Why thank you, Liam dear,” he giggles, plastering on a smile even he can feel not reaching his eyes. He’s suddenly aware there isn’t a glass of something fruity in his hands. He resolves to fix this immediately without seeing Louis. And her. </p><p>--</p><p>or,</p><p>Jay's wedding was today.</p>
            </blockquote>





	drinking champagne meant for a wedding

**Author's Note:**

> title is from "shampain" by marina & the diamonds.
> 
> remember, this is just me running with my imagination and in no way reflects anything we know about jay's wedding:)

The July sun is beating down on them, and Harry is beginning to regret wearing all this black. He’s sure he looks like he belongs in a witch coven.

“Harry, mate…you look…well,” Liam says, coming up behind him, Sophia trailing along. They both look absolutely beautiful, he thinks. He’s quite glad he’s not the only one in black. “Why thank you, Liam dear,” he giggles, plastering on a smile even he can feel not reaching his eyes. He’s suddenly aware there isn’t a glass of something fruity in his hands. He resolves to fix this immediately without seeing Louis. And _her_.

He winds lazily around the chairs and tables, vaguely recognizing some of the faces. He knows he should look like he cares more.

When he reaches the open bar (thank god) he peruses the menu quickly, before tossing it aside. “I need the strongest alcohol you have.”

The bartender smile sheepishly. “Champagne?” Harry shrugs and nods. That’ll do. Sure, it’s weak, but that means he can drink more of it. A win-win. The bartender hands him a flute by the stem, and Harry fumbles with it a bit before getting a good enough grip on it that he won’t drop it. He turns and faces the party.

Everyone here is so beautiful, he thinks. He hasn’t seen Louis since the ceremony, and, before that, when he was getting ready in their bathroom that morning. He knows he’s wearing a blue suit that makes him look divine and straight out of a Bond movie, though. So that’s something.

Harry spots Niall down by the croquet course, already drinking as well. Brilliant. “Niall!” he shouts. Niall looks up, sees the flute in Harry’s hand, and gestures him over.

“You alright?” is all Niall has to say to him.

Harry frowns. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

Niall raises his eyebrows and turns away from Harry, sipping his drink. “No reason.” Harry narrows his eyes and glares at him. “No, really, nothing. I believe you.” He takes another loud sip of his drink. “Hey, you haven’t seen Louis, have you?”

Harry works his jaw a moment before replying. “Not since the ceremony. Why?”

“Just wondering. I haven’t seen much of him either. He’s with, you know—“

“Yes, Niall, I’m perfectly aware of who my boyfriend is pretending to be in love with at this moment,” Harry snaps. Niall winces, then gives Harry a pat on the shoulder.

“Hang in there.” Harry just grumbles and shoves Niall’s arm off him before stalking off. He knows he’s being rather impolite to everyone here, and he knows he’s going to regret it later, but he. He just.

He’s tired and he’s sad and he dressed himself this morning without Louis making cute little remarks on how his scarf looks and he really just wants to congratulate Jay one more time, grab his boy, and leave. But he can’t.

The hours pass in a whirlwind of well-wishing and indiscreet pap shots and more and more flutes of champagne. He doesn’t see Louis once, not until deep in the night when the dance floor is abuzz with sweaty, happy bodies. He’s on his—well, he can’t really remember how much champagne he’s had, but he remembers the bartender giving him a weary look, and two corks flying off bottles, so that probably answers his question.

He’s hovering at the edge of the throng of bodies, knowing he’s too sober to dance and too drunk to chatter meaninglessly with others not dancing. He’s really just looking for Louis, trying to find his perfectly-coiffed hair and hazy blue eyes among the crowd. And—well. There he is. Placing his lips on Eleanor’s while, conveniently, he can see the brief smattering of camera flashes from yards away.

It’s times like these Harry’s not sure who he hates more—himself, or Louis.

(Who is he kidding? He could never hate Louis.)

He tips his head back and drains the last of his flute before heading back to the bar. “Can I just have the whole bottle?” he asks the bartender, only slurring his words a little bit. He looks cautious, so Harry says, “I promise I’ll pay for it. Won’t even let Jay buy it.” He relaxes at that, and uncorks the bottle and has it waiting while Harry digs his wallet out and hands the man what he’s sure is far too much.

“Sir, I can’t take this, it’s too much—“

Harry flaps his hand around a bit. “Don’t worry about it. You deserve it.” He takes bottle gently out of the man’s hands and takes a large swig before half-skipping back to where he was standing. Louis’ there now, what a coincidence.

“Harry,” he says quietly, “how much have you had to drink?”

“Not enough,” Harry replies, giggling, before taking another large gulp. It tingles pleasantly in his throat, and he giggles more. Oh yes, he _definitely_ hasn't had enough to drink.

“Sweetheart, can you hand me the bottle, please?” Louis says, reaching out for the dark green bottle. Harry frowns and cradles the bottle to his chest gently, like it’s his child.

“No, you don’t get ‘ta call me tha’. ‘M angry at you,” Harry slurs. “Kissing her in front ‘f me. So,”—he hiccups—“not cool. I really d’not appreciate tha’.”

“I know, baby,” Louis murmurs. “I know. But you know why.”

“Do I? B’cause last time I checked, no one would really give me a straight answer.” He takes another large chug. It doesn’t taste as good as the last time.

Louis scrubs a hand down his face. “I know, Christ, I’m sorry. Babycakes, could you please just hand me the champagne? You’re worrying me.”

“No.”

“Harry," he pleads, his voice taking on something desperate and a bit scary, if Harry's honest with himself.

“No. Don’t ya have someone to get back to?” He gestures drunkenly towards where he saw her last, but she’s not there anymore. “Oops, she disappeared. How unfortunate.”

“Harry, please—“

“Please what? Give you the only thing keeping me from bursting into tears at this very moment.” Harry shakes his head, takes another chug. “Not a chance.” He closes one eye and peers into the neck of the bottle. There’s just enough left that he can totally chug the rest of it. He’s totally going to.

“Watch this,” he says, giggling, before chugging the rest of the bottle down. “Maybe now I’ll have to get my stomach pumped, wouldn’t that be funny?” He’s vaguely aware of Louis pulling him into his arms, a few tears escaping him and trailing onto Harry's suit jacket.

The stars are so beautiful, that night, Harry thinks. Almost as beautiful as the ones in Louis’ eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on tumblr at grizzlybairparty and i will love you forever


End file.
